Harry Potter and the Path of Hades
by Rawr1983
Summary: The war for Britain's wizarding world is lost before it could be fought. But despite everything, despite death tied so intricately to life throughout Harry's existence, he finds himself alive- and the champion of two worlds.
1. The End and the Beginning

Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, nor any of their related entities and properties. This story is written by a fan, for fans, for no gain or profit to me.

_To the well organized mind, Death is the next great adventure_. - Albus Dumbledore

Harry Potter couldn't explain how it had all come to this. No, that wasn't true. He knew _exactly _how it had come to this. He simply couldn't explain how it all went out of control so quickly.

It began with the death of his cousin in the summer following his fourth year. The dementors had come. Harry didn't know why, or how, but he _did _know how to fight them. Dudley, in his terror, had hit Harry, knocking his wand loose, but thanks to a sort-of wandless _lumos_ he had recovered it. The patronus charm was on the tip of his lips. But he... hesitated. He'd been warned of the dire consequences of using magic during the summer- especially this summer. But these were dementors, and if he didn't do something, he and his cousin were both as good as dead.

Once, Harry would have joked that, if Dudley was kissed by a dementor, no one would know. It wasn't like his cousin had much personality anyway. But the reality was anything but a joke. Harry had hesitated, and Dudley had paid the price. Not just his life, but his very soul.

There was little love lost between himself and his so-called family, but he'd never wished anything like this upon them, even those times when he hated them more than anything. Even the most heartless person would have felt sorry for Petunia when she was wailing, and the lost look in Vernon's eyes would haunt him forever. They were too wrapped up in their grief to even hate Harry properly, though once they'd regained some composure that didn't stop them from kicking him out for good. It was _his fault,_ they'd said, and they weren't wrong. Harry had hesitated.

There was a hearing, of course. Harry had used magic in front of muggles, and the ministry was just looking for an excuse to crucify him. But the body of a soulless muggle was compelling evidence, even for the bigoted Wizengamot. Sure, they would have loved to gloss over a muggle death, but the means of that death had terrifying implications, and a full investigation was launched. Whatever else they said about Harry Potter- that he was unhinged, unbalanced, unsafe, and just about every other un in the book- he did not eat souls.

This inquest led to the sacking and incarceration of one Dolores Umbridge, but she took the fall alone. No one wanted to believe that anyone else had anything to do with it, and no one wanted to believe Harry was telling the truth about anything else. Especially _him_.

Undeterred, Harry sought after his mentor and Headmaster for advice, only to find that that avenue was cut off to him. For reasons he did not know, Dumbledore was avoiding him, and Harry was alone. Even his friends, who had lied to him about, well, just about everything that summer, were keeping their distance. Just as well- Harry was in no mood to forgive just yet.

Hogwarts came, and it was business as usual. Hermione was her bossy self- complete with prefect badge- and Ron began to undermine his own badge authority as fast as he could. Fences were mended, and the Golden Trio was three once more. Their new DADA professor, a thoroughly disagreeable man named Dawlish, seemed to have a personal vendetta against Harry. It was like having a second Snape, only this one had reason to throw curses at him with impunity.

"The Boy-Who-Lived should be able to effortlessly block the _confringo _curse," he'd sneered, before throwing the curse- full power- at Harry. Harry's shield hadn't held, of course, and he'd spent a week in the hospital wing.

But in the end, Harry was sort of grateful to Dawlish. The bitter auror taught Harry well, though it wasn't the man's intention. But Harry would not be trod upon, no matter how many times McGonagall told him to keep his head down. He studied, practiced, and trained, doing everything in his power to improve himself. Because Dawlish was right- the Boy-Who-Lived couldn't afford to slack in his studies, not with Voldemort about.

His other classes suffered, of course. Charms and Transfiguration were still okay- they had some things that would be useful in a duel- but Harry all but ignored Potions, and stopped going to Divination and History altogether. He didn't have the heart to do the same to poor Hagrid once the man returned from whatever mission he was on, but deep down knew that this was not time well-spent.

Hermione was worried about him; he knew this, and tried to reassure her as best he could. But one rant too many about him skiving had him carefully explaining the facts of life to her. His life, and how it wouldn't go on much longer if he wasn't ready. She couldn't really understand, but she did try, once he'd spoken to her. Harry had met the eyes of death, and that changed a person. He just hadn't been ready to admit it until now.

The next time Dawlish tried to hex him, it was the auror who wound up in the hospital wing.

Immediately, there were whispers all over the castle of Harry using dark magic. How there was no way he could take an auror without resorting to rituals and such. But Harry knew better. Dawlish had underestimated him- much as Voldemort had in the graveyard that night- and Harry was able to get lucky. Neither would make that mistake again.

Harry was quite sure that he and Dawlish would have a third and final round before the end of fifth year, but he never got a chance to test that theory.

Shortly before the end of term, Harry had a horrible vision of Arthur Weasley being attacked by a giant snake. He _was _the snake. But everyone was so distant this year, he wasn't sure who to turn to. All he knew was that Mr. Weasley was on a mission for the Order of the Phoenix, protecting something at the ministry.

Harry was reluctant to tell Dumbledore, given that the man had avoided him all year, but after warring with himself for an hour, he finally relented and told him.

He was too late. Arthur Weasley was dead.

Harry had had enough. Too many people had died, directly or indirectly, for him. Voldemort wanted the weapon so badly? Harry decided to get to it first. The Order wasn't guarding it against him, after all.

He'd made it to the ministry undetected, sneaking out from Grimmauld place after hours. He remembered the way thanks to the hearing that Mr. Weasley- poor, loving, dead Mr. Weasley- had taken him to. When asked his purpose by the phone, he'd scathingly that he was here to save the day. He pinned the badge to his chest without giving it a second thought.

_Harry Potter – Hero_

Ironic, he'd thought at the time. But as much as he didn't want to be the hero of an uncaring, unthinking populace, he couldn't stand idly by while his friends died one by one.

He'd made it to the Department of Mysteries unchallenged. He'd worn his cloak, of course, but still, he should have known. It was the _Department of Mysteries_, where all the facets of magic were studied in ways most people can't even understand. Where some of the most secret knowledge was kept. And it was unprotected?

The weapon, it turned out, was nothing more than a glowing sphere. _Sibyll Trelawney to A.P.W.B.D.- Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter._ That was the only label. Trelawney, the fraud? What did she have to do with it? Only... Harry knew she wasn't a fraud. At least, not all the time. She'd given a true prophecy, at the end of his third year. Did that mean this was...?

The answer was confirmed by Dumbledore. He'd followed after Harry, it seemed. But Dumbledore would not tell Harry the prophecy, not until he could protect his mind, and bade Harry to give him the sphere. He handed it to him, and that's when everything went wrong.

Dumbledore's hands were just taking the sphere when the sickly green curse took him from behind. The sphere fell, shattered, and was ignored. Peter Pettigrew- murderer, traitor, and slayer of the great Albus Dumbledore, hesitated as he levelled his wand at Harry. Harry did not hesitate, and Pettigrew joined Albus Dumbledore on the next great adventure. Harry used every skill he'd learned, every talent unknowingly beaten into him by Dawlish, to survive the next several minutes of the Death Eater ambush. Both sides had gone all-in, and the Department of Mysteries was a war zone. But with their leader killed, the Order was demoralized. Of course, their first priority was 'protect Harry,' while the Death Eaters had a much simpler 'kill everyone' mission, now that the sphere was destroyed. Harry saw the faces of the fallen as the Order desperately tried to usher him from the battlefield. Remus Lupin, not far from the body of Walden MacNair. Harry's eyes burned with tears when he laid eyes on his parents fallen friend. So much that could have been...

There were others, too. Emmeline Vance, who Harry barely knew, and Dedalus Diggle, who would never excitedly shake Harry's hand again. Alastor Moody, whose death had not come cheap, judging by the mostly unrecognizable lumps of former Death Eater nearby. Harry was surrounded by death, and more and more of his escort was taken by it.

And even with such a high cost, in the end it meant nothing at all. Voldemort himself had come, and the last of Harry's escort had fallen in a room with a strange, whispering veil hanging from an archaic, thoroughly disturbing arch. Two Death Eaters attended their master- but as a testament to the Order's tenacity, many of those were injured.

What shocked Harry the most, though, was the not the presence of the Dark Lord, but that of his two closest friends. Hermione, slumped against a wall, trying desperately to stand. Ron, laying on the ground behind- too still. And to add surprise to shock, he saw that Ginny too had apparently come along- her sobs as she clung the still form of her brother the only noise besides the peculiar whispering of the arch behind him.

Voldemort wasted no time. He had toyed with Harry in the graveyard, but not this time. It was a single moment in time, almost an eternity. Hermione met his eyes, and Ginny, too, looked up at him. No regrets. Sadness for their losses, but no regrets. And love. So much love. Voldemort didn't appreciate not having his victim pay attention to him. He spoke only two words. The two, final words of death. Harry didn't move. He accepted his fate. His friends had died for him, and now, he would die for them. Not in their place, for surely Voldemort would kill them next, but he died with no regrets.

_Avada Kedavra_

And the body of Harry Potter fell without a sound through the veil of death, onto his own next great adventure.

_A/N This is just a short, teaser prologue for a much longer story. Note that, up until the summer before Harry's fifth year, this story follows canon. The rest of this will be a proper story, rather than two and a half pages of exposition. But I wanted to- concisely- set the stage for what was to come. There may be the occasional flashback, going into more detail about specific scenes, but I felt this was the right way to present the 'backstory' here._

_Due to the fact that Harry Potter and the Percy Jackson novels have completely different timelines, I will be fudging things to make this work. Harry's fifth year will be Percy's third, set in the end of 2005 and beyond. Why 2005? Because I'm not 100% of the exact dates that the Camp Half-Blood series takes place in, and 2004 was a nice, easy number that is 10 years past Harry's canon time for year five. Percy and company rely a bit more on modern technologies than any of the Potter crew does, so it made more sense to use a setting that would allow those things to still exist in a meaningful way._

_To anticipate one question I figure I may see if this is read, yes, I _did _leave out some names when listing the Order dead. Hmm..._

_This will be a dark story, fair warning given. Not dark as in 'blargh blargh Harry kills all!' but dark as in, things will get bad, and then they will get worse. I'll try to keep the crying and angst to a minimum- it's not a story about 'woe is me,' but rather about overcoming terrible adversity. As always, thank you for reading!_


	2. The Mechanical Menace

Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, nor any of their related entities and properties. This story is written by a fan, for fans, for no gain or profit to me.

_It will be quick. It might even be painless. I would not know... I have never died._

An image flashed just beyond sight as his mind grasped desperately for the memory. A man with a snake-like face dissolved into nothing before he cling to the image. Another image, a massive black dog- or was it a man?- was gone before he could reach for it.

More images came, faster now, blinking in and out before he could catch more than a glimpse. He was drifting, he thought, surrounded by water he could barely feel, but as the images kept flowing past him he found himself growing more lost, separated from his own thoughts. He felt a brief pang of something he couldn't quite identify as he saw the image of a beautiful, smiling red-haired woman that he distantly thought he should know vanish from sight and mind. And then, nothing but darkness reigned.

He wasn't sure how long he'd spent alone in his thoughts of nothingness when he was awoken by the shrill wail of rusted metal joints. The world around him shook and rumbled as his eyes shot open, banishing the darkness from his sight.

The ground shook even more violently and lurched forward- and upwards, he thought- as he struggled to get his bearings. He was in a tiny, cramped room that seemed entirely made out of rusted metal, surrounded by peculiar whirling gadgets that reminded him of... _something_... that he couldn't quite recall. The only light came from small tears in the metal walls, casting a dim pall over the dusty, cluttered space. Many of the peculiar gadgets seemed broken, wobbling drunkenly on an axis or falling free of moorings entirely as the room continued to shake and move about.

The boy staggered to his feet, suppressing a groan as his muscles protested the movement, gripping at a worn, decrepit-looking ladder with unsteady hands. He could faintly hear noises from outside of the room he was in- shouting, perhaps, or maybe music. They were nearly drowned out by the constant shriek of creaking metal joints grinding roughly together and the occasional 'pinging' noise, as though something was tapping at the outside of the room he was in.

He was briefly tempted to try to look through one of the openings in the wall, perhaps figure out exactly where he was or what was going on. But even as he cast his eyes towards a crack that might be large enough to see through, the room shook once again, this time much more violently, nearly sending him to the ground. It felt as though it had just been dropped to the ground, then lifted up once more. His eyes moved to the ladder he'd clung to. There were two hatches, one up the ladder at the top of a narrow passage and another near his feet. He could stay here, but this room didn't seem entirely stable at all. Down would likely be easier, especially given how much this strange room seemed to be moving about, but...

_There's a very good chance I could end up underneath it the next time it fell, _he thought. No, he decided with a shake of his head, it looked like up was the only real choice he had. Setting his face in a determined grimace, he ignored the discomfort in his arms as he heaved himself up the ladder, desperately clinging to it as he forced himself up towards the hatch in the ceiling.

It was slow going, and his muscles burned as he forced himself up rung by rung. Every time the room was about to drop, the narrow passage he was in would contort itself, pulling him along with it and shifting him so that rather than climbing straight up, he was at an angle, before once more righting itself. Another drop, which nearly dropped _him_ to the floor below, another few rungs before securing himself against the next drop. The pinging- and the shouting- continued, as did the horrible screech of rusted metal, but he tuned all of it out as he focused on reaching the hatch that he hoped would get him to relative safety. Two more rungs. Then one. Finally, he wrapped a foot around the final rung to balance himself as he reached out towards the lever that would open the hatch.

It was stuck. He tugged at it, even risked a fall by using both hands to pull as hard as he could, but to no avail. It didn't so much as budge. He was about to give up on it and try the bottom one after all when an idea struck him.

He drew a stick from his back pocket and pointed at the door. Before he could question his own actions- or sanity- he spoke, almost reflexively it seemed. "_Alohomora,"_ he said while making an odd little jab motion with the stick. A small jet of light flashed out and struck the hatch, and the lever wrenched itself downwards in a single motion. The hatch fell open, but he barely noticed. He was staring at the odd little piece of wood in his hand.

Suddenly, the corridor jerked wildly and he found himself thrown backwards, suspended upside down from the ladder. Pain blossomed in his foot as he painstakingly forced himself upright, desperately pulling himself up through the hatch. His breath came in shallow pants as he once more staggered to a stand, cautious not to put weight on his now-throbbing foot. This room seemed a bit more stable than the last. While there was still a swaying up-and-down motion, and the room still jerked forward, it felt much smoother than the one he'd just left behind. A resounding thud echoed through the metal walls and the room shook, and he realized that it was the 'dropping' feeling of the room below. Definitely an improvement, then.

This room was larger, too, yet even more cramped. It was stuffed full of more broken things, and looked even more poorly maintained than the last room. Wires jutted out from the walls and ceiling, and unlike the last room, this one had several lights that flickered ominously every time the room shifted. Yet it wasn't the damaged walls or rusted ceiling nor even the counter full of broken levers and bent knobs and sparking gauges that caught his eye.

A girl was there, frantically flipping switches and pulling at wires, her features both determined and terrified as her hands moved with urgency across the various controls spread across the counter. She appeared maybe two or three years younger than he thought he might be, with dark hair pulled into a braid that was half-undone and nearly black eyes filled with worry. Those eyes turned towards him as he stood and widened with surprise. The girl's body stiffened with wariness, but as she opened her mouth to speak, the room lurched forward and shifted erratically, tossing him back to the ground. The olive-skinned girl, rather than speaking, cried out in pain as the control she was holding made a loud crackling noise.

The room plunged into darkness as the lights shattered, spraying both of them with shards of glass, yet he hardly noticed as the girl's pained cries increased in pitch. She was haloed in a dim light, the only illumination left in the room, and seemed to be trying to pry herself free of the control. He knew what he had to do, though, and he didn't hesitate. Heedless of his own pain, he threw himself forward at the girl, grabbing her by the shoulders and rolling them both away from the controls. Rather than falling to the ground, though, he felt his body blasted backwards into the far wall. The girl, too, was flung backwards, and he felt her impact roughly against him as he slid down to the floor.

Her hair was sticking up wildly, now only barely contained by what was left of her braid, and her hands seemed to be badly burned. He tried to banish the smell of burnt flesh from his nose as he tried to roll the unresponsive girl off of him. His efforts were cut short when room tilted sideways, sending both of them careening towards yet another wall. The short fall was still painful, and he wasn't sure if it was blood or the metal wall he could now taste in his mouth. Another tilt, and he felt his head slam against something before he was once more sent into darkness.

oOo

She came to slowly, her head spinning and her entire body feeling as though she'd been trampled by... well, by a rampaging, malfunctioning automaton. The already small chamber she'd been in was collapsed around her, wrapping her in a tight metal cocoon. She was crushed uncomfortably against something soft... the boy! Her head throbbed and her entire body felt aflame as she tried to shift around, but she managed to get enough space to feel a bit more comfortable. She might not have been a Hunter for very long, but she still wasn't happy about being in such close quarters with some strange boy.

She closed her eyes briefly as she tried to remember exactly what happened in those last few moments. She remembered getting into Talos' foot and climbing up into that control room. It was a dumb idea, she knew, and yet it was her fault in the first place that the automaton was trying to kill her friends. Shame filled her, and she let out a ragged breath, almost a sob, and her tightly shut eyes began to fill with unshed tears. She'd nearly ruined the quest to save Artemis over a dumb toy! Some Hunter she was!

With a grimace, she let her eyes open, trying to will away the tears that threatened to fall. It was dark and cold, the chill of the desert night already setting in. _One shall be lost in the land without rain. _The words came unbidden to her as she recalled her climb to get to the control room. Yet, somehow, she was still alive. Did that mean that Talos had claimed the life of another of her friends? She shook her head in denial. No! She refused to believe that someone else had died in her place. She glanced towards where the boy lay, unable to see him in the utter darkness surrounding them. His breathing was quiet but steady, and she felt an odd mix of guilt and relief. For a brief moment, she thought perhaps that it was _he _who had died, and that perhaps the prophecy might be fulfilled that way. A horrible thought, she knew, yet it pained her to think that a friend had paid for her mistake, and this boy was, after all, a stranger.

A stranger who had likely saved her life, she realized, as more memories of those last moments came to her. She remembered trying frantically to work Talos' controls, trying to make it stop attacking her friends, but she'd had no idea what she was doing. Then came the pain, as what felt like lightning coursed up her hands and through her body. It was the end, she knew, as surely as she knew her own face. And then she felt this strange boy crash into her, pulling her away from her demise.

A giggle escaped her and she allowed herself a small smile as an image of the boy sprang into her mind. _He was wearing a dress! _It was a little thing, that small moment of humor, but enough for her to break free of the guilt that gripped her. She still had a responsibility to her friends, and to Artemis. She took a steadying breath, and ignoring the pain in her hands, began pushing away the debris covering her and the strange boy. Bianca di Angelo was a Hunter, and she would _not _allow herself to give up.

oOo

Once more he found himself banishing the darkness of empty thoughts as he clawed his way to consciousness. The dull ache in his leg and head served to tell him that he had, somehow, survived the collapse of... whatever it was he'd found himself within the last time he'd awoken. He was laying atop something soft yet firm- sand, he realized after a moment- bundled up and leaning against a large piece of scrap. The night sky was clear, and dozens- no, hundreds- of twinkling stars shone down upon him.

_Twinkling._ He felt his mind grasp blindly for... something, and oh-so briefly he thought he saw a pair of piercing blue eyes.

"Oh, good, you're awake." The voice- definitely a girl's, he thought- startled him from his thought, and the nearly-forgotten image was gone before he could grasp it, turning to mist in his hands.

He sighed and sat up, ignoring his head and leg as he turned towards the voice. The girl was sitting cross-legged nearby, watching him carefully. Her hands were wrapped in bits of cloth, and she shifted uncomfortably, her face tightening slightly as she did so.

"I wasn't sure when- or if- you'd wake up," she continued in a somewhat strained voice. "I would've given you some ambrosia, but, uh, I think I lost it while I was climbing..." Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she peered at him closely. "What were you doing in there, anyway?"

For a moment, he wracked his brain for a thought, a memory, anything at all that might tell him where he was before waking up in that strange metal room. Nothing.

"I, uh, I'm not sure, exactly. I just sort of... woke up there?" he said when it was clear that his mind would not give him the answer.

"I... see," she said slowly, shaking her head. "Well, um, I guess I should thank you, at least. If you hadn't been there..."

He smiled. "Don't worry about it. I mean, well, I'm glad I was able to help. So, er, what were _you _doing there? And what exactly was that place?"

She gave him an odd look, watching him for a moment, before shrugging and looking away, her eyes refusing to meet him. "I was... I mean, I _am _on a quest. I, uh, well, _we _were trying to save Artemis. We are, I mean. Well, I guess they're the ones doing it, now. I'm, well... here." She sighed, and looked out over the desert. "There's no way I'm going to catch up with them, is there? Even if I did, it'd just mean that we were all too late to save her..."

"I, er, I'm sorry," he said awkwardly.

"At least I managed to stop Talos. That's something, right?" she said, forcing a small smile.

"Talos?"

"Yeah... the giant robot thing we were in? Kinda hard to miss."

"Oh, uh, right, " he said sheepishly. "Like I said, I just sort of woke up there."

"That's a pretty strange place for a nap. You're lucky he didn't stomp you!" she said, this time with a genuine smile and laughter in her voice.

"Not for lack of trying," he grumbled good-naturedly, idly rubbing his sore leg. "So, er, you said you were on a quest?"

Her good humor vanished in an instant, and he immediately felt a surge of guilt at spoiling her mood. "Yeah. Artemis was captured, and, well, I'm a Hunter, so..." She sighed as she saw his blank look. "You must be really new at this, huh? Artemis, you know, goddess of the hunt?"

He shrugged, but didn't say anything. He had no idea at all what she was talking about, but really didn't want to look even more foolish.

The girl gave him a curious look. "You know, I don't remember meeting you at camp, and I don't remember hearing about anyone named Harry Potter there either. Are you, um, you know... I mean, you _do _know what you are, right? You look awfully old to have gone unnoticed..."

He opened his mouth to tell her that he had no idea what she was talking about, but before he could speak, another fragment of memory broke through the haze of his thoughts. _"Yer a wizard, Harry!"_

"I... yeah," he said distractedly as he tried to grab hold of the memory before it fled. A wizard. At least that explained the door-opening magic stick. "Wait... Harry Potter?" he asked.

She giggled, and nodded towards him. "Yeah, unless you borrowed someone else's name tag!"

He looked down at his singed robe, at the charred, barely legible name tag. _Harry Potter- Hero._ "Oh. Right." At least he had a name for himself, now. Hopefully it was the right one.

"I'm Bianca di Angelo, by the way. I... well, I guess you need to get to camp, huh? Don't want to be eaten by monsters." She hesitated, and looked away from him. "I suppose I should show you the way. I can't just leave you out on your own after you helped me and all."

"That's, uh, really nice of you to offer, but what about your quest? Don't you have to save this 'Artemis' person?"

Bianca frowned at him. "She a goddess, not a person. And, well, I think... I think I've already failed," she said miserably. "It's up to the others, now. I might as well do something useful."

"Well, why don't I help you find Artemis first, and then you can bring me to this camp of yours after?"

She smiled weakly at him, one hand wiping determinedly at her eyes. "You... are you sure? I mean, I guess you _do _know what you're doing, if you've survived this long on your own."

Harry nodded at her, his earlier guilt at having upset her gone. "Yeah. This quest of yours is important, right?"

"It is. We've got to find Artemis before the Solstice, or... well, it'll be bad. And besides, as a Hunter, it's my duty to serve her however I can. I think rescuing definitely counts."

He nodded, not wanting to show any more ignorance. "Right. Well, where to, then?"

"West," she said confidently, pointing off to her left. "'_Five shall go west to the goddess in chains_.' That's what the prophecy said."

He nodded again, even though he had no idea at all what she was talking about. "Should we get going then? I mean, we're sort of on a schedule, right?"

"Yes, well, I don't have a flashlight, and it's dark out, so..."

He grinned, and pulled out his magic stick. "_Lumos,_" he said softly, the word and gesture automatic. The tip lit up brightly enough that he could make out individual freckles across her nose and cheeks. If only he could banish the shadows from his mind as easily as he did those on Bianca's face.

She smiled brightly at him, for the first time looking confident, even hopeful. "Wow, that's really handy! I don't suppose you have another one?"

Harry laughed, and shook his head. "Don't think so. You mean you don't use one?"

"Nope. I've never even seen one before," she said, shrugging.

"Oh. Well, if we find another, you can have it, then," he said, grinning. Inside, though, Harry was curious. How could she use magic without a magic stick? Did that mean he could, too?

As he carefully got to his feet, bracing himself against some of the metal debris to keep from putting too much weight on his sore leg, Harry realized that his conversation with Bianca di Angelo had given him far more questions than it did answers.

* * *

><p><em>AN - Finally! I meant for this one to go longer, but this was a logical place to end the chapter, so, well, here it is. I'm planning (*crosses fingers*) for the next chapter of _Correspondence _to be up in time for its one-year anniversary. I apologize for the very lengthy delay in getting new chapters posted, but I'm hoping to be a bit more regular for awhile. Rough estimate on the next chapter of _Hades _is two weeks. I'm going to try to alternate the two, unless the writing bug really bite_s _me hard for one or the other. Thank you for reading, and extra thanks for anyone who clicks that shiny review button!_


	3. The Forlorn Desert

Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, nor any of their related entities and properties. This story is written by a fan, for fans, for no gain or profit to me.

* * *

><p><em>I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal – to conquer death.<em>

"And so that's how Percy ended up joining us on our quest," Bianca said as the pair continued plodding forward. Already the morning sun has lit up the desert in a stunning array of golds and reds, but all Harry could think about was how warm the sun already felt on his back. It would only get worse, he surmised, but Bianca seemed determined. He was, too, he supposed. Perhaps this Artemis could give him some answers.

"What can you tell me about Artemis?" Harry asked, cutting Bianca off just as she started in on something about a train and a skeleton.

She frowning, biting her lower lip as she mulled over an answer. "Well... she's the goddess of the hunt and the moon. Um... her brother's Apollo, of course. And she has us. Her Hunters, I mean. All girls, and we all promise not to, you know, keep company with boys." Bianca let the space between them grow as she spoke, as though realizing that she could very well be 'keeping company' with Harry and inadvertently breaking her vow. "She's very powerful, though. She's always chasing after monsters with her Hunters."

"What sort of monsters have you killed? Er, besides that skeleton you were talking about," he asked in the silence that followed.

"I... I, well, that is..." He heard her stop, and turned to face her. Her hands were planted on her hips, and she was glowering at him. "Okay, so I haven't been a Hunter very long. That's no reason to make fun!"

"Sorry," he said, holding up his hands to placate her. "I didn't mean anything by it. You, uh, just seem so, um, confident? So I figured you'd fought loads of monsters by now."

Bianca blushed, and started forward again, not quite meeting Harry's gaze as he turned to walk beside her once more. "It's okay. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just worried..."

"About Artemis?"

"Yes. But also Zoë and everyone. It's a really dangerous quest, and... and I should be there with them."

The girl looked so miserable that, before he could think better of it, Harry put his arm around her. She shot him a foul look half-heartedly, but accepted the gesture nonetheless. She moved away after a short time but gave him a very brief smile, and the pair walked together in companionable silence well into the afternoon.

Finally, though, the pair could walk no more, and took shelter among some jutting rocks. It wasn't much, but was enough to give some shade from the harsh afternoon sun. Bianca's story about the skeleton chasing after her friends was enough warning for them to decide to sleep in shifts, each taking a short nap while the other kept watch. Fortunately, they went unbothered by whatever was pursuing Bianca's friends, and as night fell, they once more set out, Harry's feet and sore leg each protesting in time with the other. _At least it gives me something to think about_, he thought darkly as he held his brightly lit magic stick aloft to guide them through the darkness.

His musings were interrupted by Bianca's voice calling out to him. "I found some tire tracks! I bet that's them!" Sure enough, as Harry turned his gaze to where Bianca was pointing, a set of tracks lay imprinted in the hard-packed dirt.

"Are we sure it's them?" he asked hesitantly. It was the most hopeful he'd seen her yet and he didn't want to ruin it, but he knew those tracks could be from anyone, really.

She huffed impatiently, a gesture that for a moment seemed so _familiar_ to him, but again the thought was gone before he could grasp it as Bianca spoke. "Of _course _it is. Who else would be crazy enough to be out here in the middle of nowhere?"

_Us_, he thought, but had to admit she had a point. They set forth with renewed vigor, Bianca chattering away animatedly as though the thought they were on the right track had infused her with strength. Harry found her energy contagious, and found the aches in his leg and feet ebbing away as he listened to her tell of her little brother Nico, and his love of some game called MythoMagic.

After a time, she seemed to run out of steam, and her chatter slowed as she started to frown towards him. "You know," she said, enunciating each word slowly and carefully, "I've been going on and on about me, but I don't know a thing about you."

Harry sighed, but figured this would come up sooner rather than later. Still, he wasn't quite ready to admit that he basically knew nothing at all before waking up inside that Talos thing. Not until he had more information about what exactly he'd gotten himself into. If he got lucky, he might even start remembering things before he had to admit to anything. "I, well... what do you want to know?" he asked, trying to stall for time as he tried to dredge up something, _anything_, from his memory.

_Clear your mind, Potter. Let go of all emotion..._

The voice... the memory?... seemed to snarl at him, laced with bitterness and contempt. Still, he took a moment to try to calm his thoughts as Bianca mulled over her what she wanted to ask.

"Well... how about your family? Like, um..." She paused for a moment, then spoke carefully, gingerly even. "Do you, er, stay with your mother or father, or have any brothers or sisters?"

Harry stopped abruptly, his head splitting open as he saw a flash of a redheaded woman, heard her scream.

_"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead-"_

He knew, as sure as he knew... well, anything. It was his mother.

"My mother is dead," he said shortly, the pain in his head ignored in favor of the sudden ache in his heart as he realized this one truth. "She was killed by a monster." And he walked away without another word, refusing to let her see his face lest she also see the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

-HPPoH-

Bianca followed after him as he stalked off, following his silhouette rather than walking beside him as she had before. "Figure's I'd stick my foot in it," she grumbled- very softly- to herself as she trudged along behind him, nearly having to jog to keep up with his longer strides. She hadn't meant to upset him, of course, but she knew practically nothing at all about the strange boy who'd saved her life.

One question had been sort of answered, at least. She was _so sure_ that his strange magic meant he was a son of Hecate, but if his mother was dead...

_Obviously his mother was the mortal, like mine_, she thought as she followed the boy's light. It seemed brighter than before, more clear... more powerful, even. _I should have asked something else. _Anything _else, really. Ugh. What a mess._

Difficult though it was, she kept quiet the rest of the night. The Solstice was fast approaching, and deep down, she knew that they'd never catch up to the others- that it was in Zoë and Percy's hands, now. The knowledge- the _surety_- that she had failed was enough to drown any desire she might have had to try to make conversation.

By the time they reached the river where the tire tracks ended, it was almost daytime once more. She sighed, sitting heavily at the shoreline and cast her eyes across the river. "It's tonight," she said, voice heavy with fatigue. "The solstice," she added when he glanced over at her. His face was worn and drawn- much as she imagined her own to be- and closed off, prompting another sigh. "Percy could have taken them anywhere on this river, far faster than we could hope to follow."

"What do you mean?" he asked. There was still some tightness to his tone, but she could tell it wasn't really directed at her.

"He's a son of Poseidon. Water is... his thing, I guess. Like you and your magic stick."

He chuckled a bit at that, and Bianca could help but feel relieved that some of the tension between them was gone. "So what now, do you think?"

She frowned and glanced away from him, looking westward down the river. She had to consciously keep herself from biting her lip as she mulled over what to do next. "I, well... much as I hate to admit it..." Bianca looked down and sighed heavily. This was harder than she thought it would be. "My part in the quest... it... it was done in the junkyard." There. She'd said it. Now the next part. "I was... lost. But I'm alive, at least," she added hurriedly, lest he think her ungrateful for his part in saving her life. "I don't think I was supposed to go with them. I was just..."

"You wanted to prove yourself to Artemis," he half-asked, half-stated, and she heard him sitting down beside her. She nodded. "And you're disappointed that you won't be there to save her." She nodded again, but kept her gaze focused westward down the river. _Thanks for rubbing it in._

"But maybe, um, maybe you were meant for something else?"

"Like what," she said despondently.

He was quiet for a moment. "I'm not sure. This is all, uh, a bit new to me. But... but destiny's a funny thing, right? Sometimes things happen, and you're not sure why, but there's got to be a reason for it..." Bianca didn't think he was talking about her anymore.

Finally, she turned her gaze towards him, and asked softly, "What happened?"

For a moment, he looked like he was about to tell her, but then he shook his head and looked away from her. She, too, turned away, and the pair sat together in the oppressive silence as the sun rose, neither looking at the other.

She wasn't sure how long it was before they moved, but by mutual assent they picked themselves up and started preparing for the next leg of their journey, never mind that neither seemed to know what that might be. They refilled her small metal thermos from the river, Harry making a handy little fire with his magic stick to clean the water after she mentioned that it could make them sick without. They both took the opportunity to clean off some of the dirt and sweat from their trek through the desert, and by mid-morning, they were ready.

"What now?" she asked, putting voice to both of their thoughts.

"Well... you mentioned some kind of camp?" He was once more meeting her gaze. It was something, she supposed.

Bianca nodded. "Yeah. Camp Half-blood. It's a place where people like you and I can go to be, well, mostly safe. Well, girls can also be Hunters instead, like me. But yeah, for you, it's Camp Half-blood."

"So... you think we should just go back to this camp place then?"

Bianca took one last, longing look westward, before nodding. "Yeah. Not much else to do, is there? I've... failed."

To her surprise, she felt him once again give her a one-armed hug like he had earlier. Much as she wanted to berate him for daring to touch a Hunter in such a manner, she quite frankly didn't have the heart do so. Besides, the poor boy really didn't know any better, and the gesture was thoughtful. "We should go west," he declared, shocking her even further.

"Wh- what?" she stammered. Her eyes were wide with surprise as she stared at him.

"We should go west," he repeated. "The solstice is tonight. So, you haven't failed. There's still time, right?"

"What's the point?" she muttered dejectedly. "There's no way we'll find the rest, find Artemis, and see her to New York before tonight."

"Maybe not," he conceded, "but how do you think you'll feel if you just give up? No matter the odds, you have to try, right?" Once again, she was sure he wasn't just speaking about her anymore.

Still, she nodded slowly. He had a point. "You're right. I don't like the idea of just giving up."

He smiled, then, and let her go. As they started gathering their things, Bianca gave him a quiet 'thank you,' prompting another smile in her direction. There might be no way they could succeed, but no one would ever be able to claim that Bianca di Angelo, Hunter of Artemis, gave up on her quest.

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><p><em>AN_- I'm finding this to be a decent length for chapters for this story, so they'll probably stay about here for the time being. I'm out of my funk and the real world is giving me a brief respite, so I'll try to update more regularly. More action to come next chapter. This is a fun story to write, so I hope you're enjoying reading it as much as I like writing it. As always, thanks for reading!


	4. The Circle of Green

Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, nor any of their related entities and properties. This story is written by a fan, for fans, for no gain or profit to me.

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><p><em>There is no good and evil, there is only power... and those too weak to seek it. <em>

The punishing heat of the mid-afternoon sun seemed to pound against Harry in waves, almost in direct counter to his still somewhat aching body. Admittedly, the swim in the river had done him some good, but the cool water had long since evaporated. He gave the small canteen lashed to Bianca's hip a brief, longing glance, but shook his head at her questioning look. If she could hold out awhile longer, so could he, though he inwardly cursed the decision to endure the hot midday sun and walk through rather than take shelter as they had the previous day.

It was a silly attempt at competition, he knew, but it helped him keep going- and deep down, he knew he needed the help. Well, that, and his promise to help her with quest. His promise was important- more important than a contest that was entirely in his head, truthfully- but that one-sided competition was something immediate, something he could grasp onto while putting one foot in front of the other.

"We can rest, if you need to," she said, probably for the third time in the last hour. _She_, at least, seemed much less affected by the desert sun. It bothered him, perhaps irrationally, to seem so much... _less_... than this strange girl. He was older than she, and had powers she knew not- though she, too, had powers, he grudgingly admitted. Still, Harry shook his head.

"We have to keep going. I'll be alright," he said in clipped tones. She sighed, and he felt slight pang of guilt for the shortness with which he spoke, but... he was so _tired_, walking this desert wasteland without end. Harry knew it had only been a few hours since they'd decided to continue with Bianca's quest, and it rankled that much more that he was so ill-suited to their journey. It wasn't her fault, though, but he still couldn't completely stomp down that twinge of anger he felt towards both her and himself.

But by the time the sun started to set, he truly regretted his hasty choice to go west with Bianca. For all that she'd offered to take a break any time he seemed to waver, she'd set a pretty brutal pace, undaunted by sun or heat. For himself, he was quite sure he had a lovely sunburn, and every part of him ached. So lost in his musings was he that he missed it when Bianca abruptly stopped, taking several steps past her before her low hiss caused him to turn, an angry retort on his lips.

The words died unspoken as he saw the bright green light reflected in her eyes, which were wide with shock. That light...

_A blinding green flash. A cruel, high laugh. And then pain..._

He wasn't quite sure how it happened- or why- but before he knew it, before he could even think about it, but Harry had palmed his magic stick and spun, crouching low and warily pointing the stick in the direction of that eerie green light.

_That laugh... I _know_ that laugh..._ but again, the memory refused to identify itself. Unlike the others, the ones that slipped free, though, this one burned a path into his thoughts. This memory, he knew, wasn't going anywhere.

His reaction must have shocked Bianca to move, too, though he didn't realize it until she'd crept forward, crouching beside him. In the distance, he could see what had surprised her, his own thoughts surprisingly clear despite the pure _hatred_ that bright green light had elicited in his thoughts.

A fire. A simple campfire, yet instead of a comforting orange or hot yellow it was green. _That _green, which now seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his brain. And seven figures, arranged in a rough circle around it, clad in simple, dark robes which were not dissimilar to his own, though in much better shape. One of the figures had... something, some oblong shape the size of a large grapefruit raised high overhead.

This time, it was Harry who hissed wordlessly, as Bianca began to creep forward towards the still-distant fire. But unlike him, she ignored the warning and continued to creep forward- admittedly more skillfully, more quietly, than he could manage. He couldn't let her go alone, though- that group was up to something and while before he might have saved the life of a stranger, there was no way he'd let a friend go alone into danger.

With a single, fluid motion that spoke of long practice, he pulled his tightly bound cloak- thankful that the stifling heat of day had finally begun to give way to a cooler evening- around his head and body, hoping it would help mask his approach from prying eyes. Trying as best he could to to tread softly, he quickly crept his way foward to Bianca's side.

"-free, but if we succeed here, we can break her power before she reaches Olympus."

Harry strained to hear as the wind carried the words to his ear, staying close by Bianca's side as they eavesdropped- too close, he felt, though there was little to be done about it now.

"With a deer's head?" a dubious voice asked from one of the nebulous forms.

The first voice, from the head of the circle, responded, the obling shape- a deer's head, apparently, which was something Harry felt he'd have been quite happy not knowing- still held aloft. "The Olympians have foolishly brought the old magics to these shores. I doubt they even realize... but the advantage is ours. The ritual _will _work, and Artemis' power will be broken, and when she falls, their tower of cards falls too."

"Stop being so melodramatic, Michael, and let's get on with it. I'm getting cold." A female voice, this time, directly to the left of creep with the deer's head.

Bianca glanced over her shoulder towards where Harry had stood before he'd crept forward to join her, hand raised to motion him forward... and paused, confusion painted on her face. Her head whipped around, eyes passing right over him twice and worry etching her features. He reached out and gently tapped her arm, hoping not to startle her too badly. _I must've been sneakier than I realized, _he thought with a smile.

The girl started, staring at his hand. "H... Harry? Is that you?" Her voice quavered a bit, but her body was stock-still as she stared. He nodded, not wanting to risk making more niose, but she didn't respond. "Harry?" she asked again after a moment.

"I'm right here in front of you," he whispered, trying to keep his voice as low as possible.

Thankfully, hearing his voice seemed to calm her down some. "I can't see you except your hand... is that more of your magic?"

Not wanting to admit to ignorance- and realizing even with his limited knowledge of the situation, these people were up to nothing good- he nodded again, then grimaced. _She can't see me nod. Smart, Harry, very smart._

"Yeah." He paused a moment before speaking again. "It sounds like this lot means trouble... what do you think we should do?"

She visibly gathered herself, her eyes snapping back towards the gathering. Her voice was steel. "Lady Artemis is in danger. Our path is clear- whatever they're up to, we have to stop." He nodded, a tiny voice in his head wondering what chance two had against seven. Perhaps they might find some way to disrupt whatever dark magics this coven had prepared?

Whatever plans they might have created, though, died unspoken as the gathering's leader began chanting. Bianca's trainers were barely a whisper against the hard dirt and soft sand as she darted forward wordlessly, a faint silver glow almost a halo about her as she darted forward. Biting back a swear or three- _I seem to be doing that a lot, lately_- he rushed forward after her, magic stick raised high and words of power on his lips.

Bianca was slim and light and young, but with a Half-Blood's strength and surprise at her side, she managed to bowl over one of the robed strangers, a lanky boy- at least Harry assumed it was a boy, from the sound of his startled cry- head and shoulders taller than her who had been reaching for a steaming chalice.

Immediately, the others cried out in alarm, the sickly green fire erupting wildly and scattering the circle. "An intruder! Kill her quickly, we have little time!" their seeming-leader shouted, dropping the deer's head and drawing a wickedly curved knife that seemed to be as long as Harry's forearm. To Bianca's left, another robed figure drew a similar blade, poised to strike her while she disentangled herself from her downed target.

Like Bianca, though, it seemed as though the cultists didn't realize Harry was there. It was a simple matter, then, for him to level his stick and take aim. It bucked slightly in his hand as a luminous half-sphere launched outwards, almost faster than he could follow. No one could miss the loud, dull cracking of bones splintering, though, nor the pained gurgle as the robed figure crumpled to the ground.

But it was still five on two, and three of them were quickly closing around Bianca, too close for Harry to strike out at them without risking hitting her as well. The other two were rushing in his direction, though strangely, they _still _couldn't tell exactly where he was. He'd have to settle them quickly, he knew, and hope Bianca could hold long enough for him to help in her battle as well.

-HPPoH-

Bianca danced back as one of the strange Half-Bloods' daggers sought her neck, nimbly evading his seemingly clumsy attack as she lashed out with her own knife. A cry and splash of blood told her she'd found her own target even as she spun away from a second enemy's strike. Inwardly, she marvelled at how... how _slow _they seemed. Not as though they were moving through molasses, exactly, but rather as though they were trying to dance when they didn't really know how, and kept fumbling the steps.

And yet, they were obviously trained warriors, perhaps Campers- well, former Campers- themselves. She knew on some level that being a Hunter meant that she had certain advantages, but had no idea she'd be so much, well, _better _than they were.

A flash was all the warning she had, and quick though she was, she still gasped in pain as the leader's curved blade sliced through shirt and skin effortlessly. It wasn't bad, she thought, but _gods _did it hurt! Her return strike was clumsy- Zoe would have had her hide if she'd seen it- and he easily avoided her, a mocking laugh her only response.

"You're a Hunter, aren't you, little girl? Your blood will make up for that you spilled today." He and his remaining ally came at her together, daggers darting forward in tandem as she staggered back, her movements uncoordinated as she tried desperately to ignore the pain and focus on the fight. The ally- the girl, she thought- split slightly from their leader, rushing forward suddenly and lashing out in a rapid pattern of strikes, forcing Bianca to dodge away again, desperately trying to keep the girl's blade from her throat.

And then, agony blossomed as she felt another knife bite deeply into her side. A cry of pain escaped her throat despite herself, and she heard a voice- the same as the fellow she'd struck first, she realized- laughing in her ear as his blade came free.

Her eyes filled with tears as she reacted, faster than she thought possible, and the voice in her ear became a gurgle as her knife lashed out blindly. She was only dimly aware of the feel of his life flickering away as she fell backwards. She felt a warmth on her hand as he staggered to the ground beside her, his hands clawing and grasping futilely at his throat. She barely noticed as several beams of light lanced out past her, striking down the shocked figures who were standing over her, poised to strike.

The faint light of the cultist's life flickered away, dancing free even as she tried to grasp it, tried to force it back. He was dead.

-HPPoH-

Harry was already rushing towards Bianca as his last spell struck the final enemy still standing, letting his cloak fall to the ground, forgotten.

She was bleeding from two injuries that he could see, one a fairly minor-seeming gash, the other a bad wound in her side. Bianca seemed completely unconcerned, though, as she stared at her own blood-covered hand.

"I think I killed him," she said quietly, her voice a faint echo of the confidence she'd shown earlier that day. "I didn't mean to... I... he's dead."

He glanced at the still form just behind her, a dagger lodged in the bloke's throat. "I... yeah. But... it's..." He glanced at the body again. _I would not know... I have never died. _He shook his head angrily. "It was him or you. You... you did what you had to." She didn't respond, barely even stirred. "You did what you had to," he repeated, "not just to save yourself, but to protect Artemis."

"Artemis," she muttered, looking up at him. She seemed to draw strength from the name. "Yes. Yes, you're right. For Artemis. I just..." Her eyes cast downward once more. At the body.

Harry, though, was more worried about Bianca than he was about the person she'd inadvertently killed. He grabbed one of the fallen knives and quickly cut part of the robes off, wadding it up and pressing it to her side. She hissed in pain and looked down at his hand, then back to his eyes, nodding in gratitude. "I... thank you, Harry." She sighed. "She's safe... we protected her. I... I didn't fail after all, did I?"

He shook his head, smiling slightly, glad to be speaking of something other than the dead body at their side. "You didn't fail at all. Artemis is safe, and so are you. We'll be able to reunite you with her soon, then..." His voice was a bit brittle as he said that, though, and the words seemed hollow. She'd be with Artemis and her Hunters, and Harry would be... adrift, with no friends and no memories. At least he'd be able to keep his promise, even if it meant being alone in this strange world he knew nothing of.

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><p><em>AN - Yes, a new chapter. Shocking, I know. I swore never to abandon a story, and by God I plan to keep that promise, even if it takes me forever to get something constructive written. And it was a constructive break, as I've got a good outline going finally rather than a completely vague idea of where I'm going with the story. Parts of the latter third of the story are still open, however, pending the final book. Yes, I currently plan to be somewhat compliant to Camp Half-Blood canon, aside from the obvious of Bianca being alive. Harry and Bianca (and friends, eventually) have their own story, rather than interfering in Percy and Jason and Annabeth's stories.  
><em>

_Harry Potter canon, is, of course, completely mucked up, but I do plan to keep true to established canon there too, aside from story things. For instance, yes, I DO plan to account for horcruxes and other book 5/6/7 stuff.  
><em>

_Speaking of Harry Potter, Correspondence Uninterrupted is also NOT abandoned. I just... don't much like the story. As part of the work I was doing on both stories, I re-read both of them and my notes on them, and I do not care at all for the multitude of errors and other silly things I've done with the story. This means a dreaded rework (NOT rewrite- the plot does not need serious adjustment, but my writing certainly does). I hate rewriting even as I acknowledge its necessity, which means that I will not be messing with Correspondence for a while longer. I would expect that I'll edit chapters and post new ones together as I go, since I won't have to mess with plot.  
><em>

_As always, I appreciate you spending the time to read my story, and I especially appreciate those who waited (patiently or otherwise) for me to actually post something new. You guys are the best! And as always, I have no beta, so any errors are purely my own, and I'm sure there's more than a few. Thanks for putting up with those, too.  
><em>


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